


the truth to summer's lie

by jan



Category: Matantei Loki Ragnarok | Mythical Detective Loki Ragnarok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-29
Updated: 2006-04-29
Packaged: 2018-01-25 02:19:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1626365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jan/pseuds/jan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for qwerty</p>
    </blockquote>





	the truth to summer's lie

**Author's Note:**

> Written for qwerty

 

 

         _summer-finding_

Odin first meets him at the banks of the river Iving. There is something in those eyes - blue as a cloudless sky and almost as promising - that is strangely familiar.

 

         _midsummer_

By midsummer Loki has grown accustomed to Asgard, and its inhabitants are less distrustful of him. It is an agreeable time of year. Heavy waves of air shimmer above the fields, the sunlight turning all it touches to gold -- in the drowsiness of summer Odin learns these things, some sooner than others: Loki is both talented and quick to learn; Freki and Geri can, in fact, be civil to strangers; Thor needs a lesson on taking things less literally; there are many tricks that can be played on one with too-long hair; Urd's eyes are no sadder when she is no longer a swan; in the right light, Loki's hair gleams as golden as Sif's. Summer always passes too fast, and this year Loki's careless laugh makes the days speed by even quicker.

Odin also learns: that for one who was found wandering friendless, Loki is oddly afraid of being alone; allowing Loki to drink too much is never a good idea; Loki is more accommodating of Thor than Baldr ever is, and this works out well for all parties involved; Odin should never, _ever_ let Loki braid his hair.

And also: that Loki has one smile that means trouble, one smile that signifies contentment, one smile that reminds Odin there are things about this visitor he shall never learn.

 

         _winter-finding_

Autumn passes easily enough, summer laziness giving way to restless change; when Odin visits the Norns for the second time, winter is well on its way. Loki's gaze has grown sharper, brighter, and the food in Asgard seems to be agreeing with him. At the very least he no longer looks quite as scrawny next to Thor, and Heimdall has increasingly less reason to mock the mismatched pair each time they take the long route out of Asgard. Odin has his doubts about the desirability of Loki's influence on his son, yes, but he has to admit that Thor has been markedly more cheerful since Loki's arrival.

The difference can also be observed in what Loki's absence brings: Thor is standing alone, now, moodily scuffing at fallen leaves with the toe of one boot. Verdandi looks less than pleased with this behaviour, particularly after Thor's unenthusiastic response to being introduced to them; Skuld darts nervous glances in her eldest sister's direction. Urd herself does not seem to notice, and is instead staring out across the grey-lit horizon. Odin still does not know if he was right to give her this body.

"What happened to the swan?" Thor asks at last, looking up. "It was here in the summer -- Loki kept talking about it. Said I should see it, since it was so pretty. But there were giants and things to deal with, so I never did come down here, and now -- well, I mean, in autumn Loki said it'd already gone and all, but I'd kind of hoped..."

Urd half-turns, at this, and Odin is watching her as he says, "It's a long story, Thor --"

But at that point Loki shows up, grinning despite his lateness, and Thor forgets his question.

 

Odin leaves Loki and Thor to their own devices, once the meeting with the Norns is over, and drowses off in his cold hall instead. Only when Hugin alights on one arm, cawing fretfully, does he wake -- blinks, reaches out absently to soothe his raven, and ends up jabbing Thor in the ribs.

"Ah, you're awake!" Thor says happily, and Odin feels a familiar weary dread at his son's enthusiasm. "Loki said that it'd be better if I managed to get it done before you woke up, but oh well. How do you like it?"

'It', Odin soon discovers, refers to the numerous plaits that Thor has conscientiously (if clumsily) introduced to Odin's hair - as well as the late autumn flowers that have been woven in, and the suspiciously familiar lengths of ribbon, and a few jewelled necklaces. Odin makes a mental note to ask Freya if she has lost any accessories recently, and steels himself to deliver a proper, fatherly lecture.

But Thor is beaming, proud of both his handiwork and what he takes to be speechless delight on Odin's part, and Odin can only sigh as his resolve melts. He thanks Thor for the effort, and can almost hear Loki's self-satisfied laugh in the distance.

 

         _yule_

In winter, the ravens make their presence felt. Throughout the warmer months they are little more than a background annoyance, but as the leaves fall the ravens begin to gather in ragged flocks; by midwinter they are everywhere, stark against the grey-white of snow and silver birch. Loki visits Midgard often in the days leading up to Yule, an uninvited guest at many a celebratory feast. Odin holds feasts of his own, and they are almost enough to make him overlook the absence of Loki's warm laughter.

It is twilight two days after Yule when Hugin and Munin return with a straggler in tow. Loki strolls into Odin's hall as if he has never been away: nothing even vaguely resembling apology in his step, no sheepishness in his voice as he hails Odin. "You seem to have enjoyed the mortal world well enough," Odin says, and is surprised by the edge in his own voice.

Loki's smile falters, and it is with a strange, sudden pain that Odin realises he has the power to kill the light in those eyes. When Loki approaches, he reaches not for Odin but for Hugin, who is perched solemnly on one arm of the throne. Hugin is compliant enough, letting Loki smooth down the glossy feathers on his back, but Munin caws disdainfully at Loki's attempts to coax him closer.

"They brought me back," Loki says at last, which is not quite the same as asking _Were you looking for me?_

"And you came," Odin replies, which is as close as he can ever come to an apology.

 

         _reprise_

They perform the oath a year after their first meeting. Loki's solemnity is unfamiliar without being unpleasant, his voice free of its usual flippancy; Odin decides that the grave set of Loki's lips is preferable to the contemplative smirk that means another scheme is afoot. But the spell breaks once the ritual is done, and Loki is his usual laughing self again as they head out across the fields. It takes some persuasion before Odin consents to sit down -- the ground is damp with melting snow -- but eventually he finds himself lying on the grass and gazing up at the complacent, drifting clouds, his head resting in Loki's lap.

"I'm not sure all that blood was necessary," Loki says after a while. It is the sort of offhand remark that one expects from him, so Odin does not even bother sighing in mock exasperation. That is just as well; Loki's next words are far less expected, though his tone is casual as ever when he says, "Besides -- you already know I'd shed far more than that for you, my brother."

Odin raises his head, propping himself up with one elbow. The smile on Loki's face is gentle, wistful, far too sincere, and Odin knows it is not meant for him to see. He also knows that that does not matter. The grass is staining his robes, and Loki's wandering fingers have begun to braid a few locks of his hair -- but spring is in the air, and in those eyes Odin sees a future as bright and limitless as the afternoon sky.

 


End file.
